


Feel the Tide Turning

by bickells



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, and making fun of bird books, especially jonny, moving and boxes, they're both idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-04
Updated: 2014-02-04
Packaged: 2018-01-11 05:02:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1168996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bickells/pseuds/bickells
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jonny's apartment looks like a tornado went right through it. There are boxes thrown around everywhere, mostly empty, papers and tags scattered all over the floor along with books, portraits, dishes, and twice as many empty bottles of beer as men walking around the mess. Everything looks cluttered yet somehow empty, and Patrick feels his stomach drop in realization. </p><p>Jonny's moving.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feel the Tide Turning

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place right after the Stanley Cup Finals in 2013. Both boys are really dumb and oblivious in this, but when are they not tbh.
> 
> Title from Mumford and Sons song Feel the Tide.

When Patrick’s phone buzzes early on a Saturday afternoon, he’s sprawled on his couch in nothing but a pair of ratty sweatpants, one leg thrown over the back of the couch and the other dangling onto the floor. He’s chewing away on a bag of chips and watching a crappy movie on TV. Every once in a while, he looks down to dust the crumbs off his chest and to the floor.

It’s not exactly the life of a 24 year old guy who has just won the Stanley Cup for the second time, but hey, contrary to popular belief, he doesn’t spend twenty four hours a day getting wasted, and half the time he’d much rather stay in and laze around doing nothing. Especially when out of nowhere so many people seem to want to hang out with him just because his name is making the headlines again, and for a good reason this time. He swears around sixty percent of the people who have called him over the last weeks hadn’t tried to contact him since 2010. Fuckers.

So when he glances at his phone and sees the screen light up with a text, he considers moving for about 0.3 seconds before going back to his movie. Some guy is getting shot in the head, and Patrick laughs loudly with his mouth open just because he can and nobody’s there to tell him off for it. But then his phone starts ringing with a call and Patrick recognizes the tone that is set for everyone on the team. It had been Jonny's ridiculous idea, of course, so that nobody would ignore important calls. Sort of like an emergency ringtone kind of thing. Except everyone had soon started to realize that what qualified as an emergency in the eyes of Jonny was to check whether that was a yolkless omelette sitting on your dish. (Also, Jonny has a different ringtone than everybody else in Patrick's phone, but Patrick would rather not talk about that.)

He reaches out and takes the phone just as it stops ringing. The name flashing across the screen reads Da Sharpshooter (not Patrick's idea, naturally), and the unread text is also from him. 

_why arent u @ tazers place? everyones here come over_

Patrick frowns at the words and feels something unpleasant settle deep inside his stomach, though he's not entirely sure why. He considers shoving the phone under the couch and ignoring it just out of spite but instead he finds himself staring at it and reading the text over and over again. It’s not like he and Jonny are best friends — might’ve been, once, but not anymore. Especially not with everything that has happened. But still, these dumb parties someone in the team always throws just at the start of the off season and before they all head back to their families and homes have always been a tradition, and it irks Patrick that Jonny decided to be in charge of the one this year and chose not to invite Patrick over. That’s just fucking low. It’s fucking childlike, is what it is.

He drags his ass all the way to his bedroom and throws on the first clean t-shirt he finds, then dives into the back of his closet to dig out the most obnoxious pair of sneakers he owns, the ones he knows Jonny hates the most. They’re big and shiny and green, and they read PKANE in red on each side.

As he grabs his keys and his phone, he grins to himself. If Jonny really wants to play this game, Patrick will show him how much of a petty nine year old he can be.

 

~

 

Things with Jonny during the past weeks have been, well. Patrick wants to say weird but that’s how they’ve always been with each other. Strained, maybe. Forced in a way it’s never felt between them, not even when they were rookies and hardly knew one another and were pushed into leaving aside their competitiveness and their hunger for being better than the other and into becoming a single entity meant to be the future of the entire organisation. 

The short and easy explanation goes like this: they sleep together, don't talk about it, Patrick brings it up and Jonny turns him down, they don't talk about that either, then Jonny tries to pick Patrick up and this time Patrick turns him down, and they certainly don't even come close to talking about that.

For a more thorough explanation, though, it's necessary to go back to almost exactly three years ago, on the night that they won the cup in 2010. They’d all gone out and gotten drunk, as was usual, jumping from bar to bar and giving out high fives to people and being loud and taking over each place they headed to. Basking in the long searched-for and well-deserved glory. Jonny stays at Patrick’s side all night, nothing out of the ordinary really, except that entering the early hours of dawn, Jonny tightens the heavy arm he’s kept around Patrick in an almost possessive manner and pulls him close. His breath is as warm and sweet as his lips are when they brush Patrick’s ear, and he starts whispering the filthiest things Patrick has ever heard come out of his mouth. They’re both flushed, cheeks red and panting, eyes wide and dark, and Patrick lets Jonny lower his mouth down to his jaw and press it against his skin, licking and sucking a little, then more insistently. Patrick feels his hand move out of its own accord and card through Jonny's short hair, urging him on, pressing him closer and forcing his mouth wider open against his sweaty neck.

They end up in Patrick's bed together, of course. There was no other possible outcome that could’ve resulted from all those things Jonny promised Patrick back at the bar. It’s sloppy and full of gentle nibbling, silly laughs muffled against skin. It’s over way too soon for Patrick's usual liking for sex, but lasts considerably long given how trashed they both are. They collapse on top of each other when they’re done, comfortable as if this were something they’d been doing for years, and when they wake up next morning both ready to die more due to their hangovers than embarrassment or regret, Jonny looks at Patrick as he’s pulling up his boxers and grins.

"Just a cup thing, yeah?" His voice is light and unworried, and Patrick’s honestly surprised his captain’s not freaking out over this. But then again, Jonny’s weird, and they’re weird together, so it shouldn’t be that shocking. 

So Patrick rolls his eyes and smiles cheekily and nods, says "Sure, man," and they don’t talk about it again.

It’s all good, really. Patrick can’t even remember if the sex even was that awesome. He's quite positive that it sucked, because it's Jonny, and there's no way Jonny's good at sex. Besides, if the marks on his skin are anything to go by, Jonny’s really into biting and that’s not Patrick’s thing at all. So they both hook up and date other people, talk to each other about it, and there’s no indication that anything has changed between them.

But as time goes on Patrick can’t stop thinking about that night. It starts off quite innocent -- he's bored one night and starts trying to remember more details about how sex with Jonny was like. Patrick comes up with all sorts of ridiculous stages in which Jonny either cried for coming embarrassingly fast, or cried because Patrick was just that much of a sex god. They all sort of involve Jonny crying. But then his mind wanders off to more dangerous territory and Patrick starts considering the sex being actually good, and then, not only good, but mind-blowing and amazing. His mind and his dick betray him and he ends up jerking off to the thought of Jonny eating him out and pressing his tongue incredibly deep to lick him clean just after coming inside him. Patrick knows it's not what really happened -- hell, he saw the condom tied up in the trash can that morning and he knows Jonny is too much of a freak to even consider doing something like that -- but still, it's a nice thought.

After that, he can't stop staring at Jonny and thinking about it, wondering if Jonny's thinking about it too. His fantasies keep getting dirtier and dirtier, better and better, to the point where he starts blushing whenever Jonny so much as looks at him in the eye. It's ridiculous and embarrassing and starts getting way out of hand. Patrick tries to get over it by having awesome sex with other people, but it doesn't work at all, the sex isn't even that good, and instead makes him feel really bad with himself and wondering when the hell did Jonny fuck up his life like this.

It's not just the sex, though. Patrick soon finds himself wishing Jonny was there at nights to hold him a bit. Not too much, Patrick likes his space when he's sleeping, but Jonny has nice arms that Patrick wouldn't mind around him, and a warm, solid chest Patrick could possibly use as a pillow. Then maybe Patrick would wake up and get Jonny some breakfast just to get him to eat something not too healthy every now and then, and they could even sit at Patrick's sofa and watch cartoons together as they eat.

When Patrick realizes what he's wishing for, he gets so scared he almost throws up.

It takes Patrick about one year — and long conversations with his sisters that he’s all too willing to pretend never happened — for Patrick to realize he’s in love with Jonny, and another year after that to find the guts to tell him.

It’s a terrifying thought, the whole thing. Being in love with his best friend and captain, wanting to - to do stuff with him. The only thing that puts him slightly at ease, if anything, is the fact that Jonny wants him, too. Granted, Jonny was terribly wasted and high on adrenaline when it happened and Patrick had scored the winning goal and was right there next to Jonny throughout the entire night. But still, that has to mean something, Patrick hopes.

Besides, Jonny hadn’t really specified what cup thing. A winning the cup thing? Or just an anything related to the cup thing? Patrick spends an entire day debating whether losing in the first round of the playoffs counts to Jonny as a cup thing.

Except, when he finally brings it up -- because hockey season is over and he has nothing to distract his mind with and he's feeling like shit with himself -- Jonny freezes in his spot and gets that dumb frown on his face and starts shaking his head before Patrick is even done making his point. He’s not sure he even gets a coherent sentence out, but he figures he makes the whole gist of it clear, yet Jonny says no in a strangled voice, like he’s even outraged Patrick mentioned it. Which, whatever. Patrick can deal with that.

He gets on a plane and leaves Chicago as soon as he can and deals with it quite terribly during the following weeks. Jonny calls him and, instead of ordering him to come back, buys him a ticket to Buffalo and forces Patrick to face his family and their disappointed stares. His mom cries, and then Patrick cries, and everything is quite ridiculous and Patrick wants the summer to be over already. He misses Jonny a bit. Okay, a lot. They text almost constantly and Patrick updates him on everything, because naturally, despite that awful non-conversation they had back in April, they’re still teammates and over all friends, and Patrick is still ridiculously in love with him. Jonny never tells him off or lets him know about his thoughts on Patrick’s drunk tour, however, which Patrick, well -- he appreciates it at first, but as the days pass he feels like Jonny is holding back on him for whatever reason, perhaps because he feels like Patrick could have another meltdown if Jonny pushed him too hard, and the thought alone makes Patrick’s stomach clench.

Things are slightly off when Patrick flies back to Chicago. Jonny has a new girl that Patrick never meets but still seems like she’s always there. Jonny cancels on him all the time and It seems like they don’t get any alone time anymore, and then the lockout happens, and Patrick senses the cold dread of having nothing to fall back on. Nothing to keep him upright. He’s in love with Jonny and it’s stupid, he hates himself for it. 

He goes to Switzerland, hangs out with Seguin and his mom, and doesn’t talk to Jonny much. Jonny had sent him off with a Skype schedule, the only words he’d exchanged with Patrick since finding out he was leaving for Europe, but the first time they try it out Jonny is shirtless and has a dumb smile on his face and Patrick misses him immensely and his chest hurts and he can’t deal with it. It’s just pushing his head away from what he really has to think about. He came here to play hockey and get over his dumb infatuation, not to fail at hockey and fall even deeper for Captain Asshole. It doesn’t help that when he tries to talk to Jonny the next time to tell him they won’t be able to chat as much, Jonny stands him up and misses their Skype date, and then the following one, too. Patrick tries to subtly ask Sharpy and the guys about it, but they all go on and on about Jonny abandoning them to go to super secret, super important meetings and to shack up with his girl and Patrick doesn’t want to hear anything else about it. He doesn’t get on Skype again at all during his time there except to talk to his sisters, and doesn’t meet up with Jonny when he’s back in the States for Christmas. _Too busy w/the fam_ , is what he texts back to Jonny’s invitation. 

When things are fixed at last, Patrick puts on his best face and acts like nothing’s changed. He hangs out with Jonny for a bit, they play videogames together and joke around with each other during practice. They don't talk about anything, about how they ignored each other for the past months, and Patrick thinks he’s got everything under control until they beat the LA Kings and go to the finals. Out of nowhere, Jonny starts to throw long glances at him from the other side of the locker room, his hands start to linger more after every touch, he becomes a constant presence next to Patrick. Patrick thinks it’s unfair, really. This cup thing is looming over them both, and Patrick has enough to keep his mind busy without the prospect of getting to sleep with Jonny again. Mainly, winning and deleting the entire last year out of everyone’s memories.

They win the cup.

_They win the fucking cup again._

Patrick feels on fire, literally lit up from the inside and ready to burst into flames. He can’t wipe the grin off his face, from the moment he gets called up to pick up the Conn Smythe all the way into the third bar in Chicago they head to. They’re all awfully wasted, there’s a horse head involved, it’s all quite terrible. To crown the whole thing off, Patrick comes to a sudden realization, right as Jonny is spraying champagne all over him. And when Jonny walks over to him — stumbles, actually — and leans down to press his lips to the spot right under Patrick’s ear, murmurs something about winning and about cup things, Patrick bolts.  
It’s not because he’s a coward, it’s because he doesn’t think he can sleep with Jonny and then have to pretend it didn’t mean anything. He’s pushing things already as it is, acting as if he’s not trying to remember details about that night three years ago, and going through it only to have to forget it again is not something Patrick believes he can do.

So, as has become usual for them, they don't talk about that night, either. Actually, they don't talk at all. Little pieces of information reach Patrick through his other teammates, like how Jonny took Brandon to that new mini-golf spot he was going to go to with Patrick, but eventually they start realizing that the reason Patrick's asking so much is that he and Jonny are not talking, and Sharpy tells Patrick to get his head out of his ass and fix things. Which, of course Patrick's apparently responsible for this situation. Of course.

 

~

But even if he's no longer getting information from his friends and he's no longer talking to Jonny, he feels like someone should've definitely told him or at least hinted something about this.

Jonny's apartment looks like a tornado went right through it. There are boxes thrown around everywhere, mostly empty, papers and tags scattered all over the floor along with books, portraits, dishes, and twice as many empty bottles of beer as men walking around the mess. Everything looks cluttered yet somehow empty, and Patrick feels his stomach drop in realization. 

Jonny's moving.

Shawsy, who opened the door for Patrick, squeezes his shoulder once then heads to the kitchen to get him a beer, and Brandon appears out of nowhere and trails after him. Patrick sees Seabs and Duncs fighting over a photo album they've just found, and Sharpy is gleefully inspecting Jonny's lame DVD collection. Jonny is nowhere to be seen and Patrick feels unexplainably out of place.

"Peeks, get over here," Sharpy calls from where he's kneeling in front of a half-filled box when he sees Patrick still hovering near the door. "I can't believe Toes makes you put up with this shit, these are all terrible."

Patrick doesn't even find it in him to protest the nickname. He gets his feet moving, goes over to where Sharpy is and drops right next to him on the floor. He feels betrayed. It's probably ridiculous and his cheeks heat up at the mere thought of it, but he does. Jonny's always been a solid presence in his life, regardless of everything, and Patrick thought that they were stronger than this. That no matter what happened they'd still be close. That they'd somehow get over the whole strangeness that had taken over and that Patrick would fall out of love and that everything would go back to the way it was before. He never thought Jonny would make a decision as important as moving, probably even further away from Patrick, without letting him know. 

Sharpy pulls him out of his thoughts a few seconds later when he says, "Oh, thank god, here are some good ones. I thought we were going to have an intervention or something." He picks up the Fast and the Furious collection and puts it inside the box, and Patrick feels like throwing up and doesn't mention that he's the one who gave those to Jonny.

He grabs a few DVDs from the box and looks at the back of them just to have something to do. "So, uh," he starts, his voice coming out all weird and a bit choked up. He clears his throat, then goes on, "I guess Jonny's moving, then, huh?"

He tries to sound nonchalant, but he clearly doesn't if the way Sharpy's looking at him is anything to go by. For a few seconds, Sharpy stares at him with a light frown, as if hesitating about what answer to give, and then says, all while looking at Patrick's face, "Well, yeah. He says he told pretty much everyone. Hell, it was even on the news."

Patrick rolls his eyes and chuckles to himself. "Of course it was. No, yeah, he probably told me at some point and it slipped my mind."

A pause. "Sure."

Sharpy isn't at all convinced but he goes back to the DVDs, glancing at Patrick from the corner of his eye every now and then and sending Shawsy away when he walks over offering an almost empty bottle of beer to Patrick and asking if they need help. 

It's not until half an hour later that the door opens and Jonny comes in, struggling with a large pile of cardboard boxes and some bubble wrap. He looks a bit sweaty, the fabric of his shirt sticking to the skin of his back, his cheeks red and his mouth slightly open. It's a good look on him, as is everything, really. Patrick's only human and he can feel his heart speed up. Jonny puts everything down next to the door after he kicks it closed, and then his eyes land immediately on Patrick, not looking even a little surprised to see him.

"Hey, man," he says, as cool and relaxed as ever.

Patrick frowns and starts feeling a bit unwelcome all over again. "Hey."

And then Jonny fucking grins at him and walks over to where Seabs and Duncs are, as if nothing's happening, as if everything's normal and they haven't been ignoring each other for weeks because Patrick didn't want to have sex with him. Patrick swallows hardly and looks down, feels like he could strangle Jonny for caring so little about things. About him.

Patrick sticks to Sharpy's side the whole day, and also gets to hang out with Shawsy. They've been close for a while, pretty much since Shawsy self-proclaimed himself Patrick's rookie and started following him around everywhere, and Shawsy is fun, he never throws Patrick weird looks and doesn't over analyze anything. He just shoves Patrick's shoulder and laughs and makes stupid jokes with him, and Patrick maybe laughs a bit too loud but he feels like he needs it. He knows Jonny's watching him from somewhere and he ignores him.

He doesn't really do anything to help. Everyone else is getting a kick out of going through Jonny's things and making fun of him, but Patrick doesn't want to touch anything. It's strange, seeing how much of this stuff he's become used to, to the point where none of it is new to him anymore. Seabs laughs and shows him a photo of Jonny as a kid with his entire face covered in food, and Patrick smiles and pretends Jonny didn't give him a copy of it and of a couple more of them the moment he realized Patrick truly, honestly liked them and wasn't going to make fun of him for it. Patrick has them safely tucked inside a drawer in his closet. 

Eventually, though, as time passes, Jonny starts to become more and more strict regarding the whole wrapping process and it stops being fun for everyone. It's almost five when Duncs and Seabs head out, closely followed by Sharpy. Brandon and Shawsy are planning to go back to Shawsy's apartment and play some videogames, have some food delivered, and Patrick invites himself along. Going back to his place to be alone again is the last thing he wants to do right now. 

He waves to Jonny from a distance and then goes to stand next to the door, ready to leave as soon as possible. The other two guys, however, huddle around Jonny and start talking to him in hushed whispers, not letting Jonny get any words in and repeatedly patting his back and shoulders in what looks like encouragement. Patrick watches the entire situation with a frown, confused and quite sure that they're talking about him or something related to him. He doesn't have much time to think about it, though, because the moment Shawsy and Brandon step back and start walking to the door, Jonny looks up and his eyes fall on Patrick's unwaveringly. He's not smiling this time and Patrick can't look away.

"Can you stay around for a bit longer?" Jonny says, his voice barely above a whisper.

Patrick's heart picks up again. He wants to say no, he really does, but Jonny's eyes are soft and his entire body looks warm and inviting and Patrick aches for him. He can't get any words out and he's stuck with opening and closing his mouth a few times, and Shawsy and Brandon take his silence for a yes and they pat his shoulder and back, then leave without him.

Patrick does his best to ignore the stupid fluttering of wings inside his stomach. Finding himself under Jonny's scrutinizing gaze again feels unexplainably good. As the door clicks shut, there's nothing but silence. Jonny is looking at him from the other side of the living room, back against the huge windows and the Chicago skyline, and Patrick looks around and doesn't understand why Jonny wants to leave this place. It's a beautiful condo, close to where Patrick lives and not too big, perfect for when you're living alone. Unless--

Fuck.

Unless Jonny isn't going to be living alone any longer. Patrick's only now considering this option and he feels like this entire day has been something out of an alternate dimension in which this stranger Jonny doesn't even care about him and is not even his friend, can't even tell him he's getting serious with his girlfriend and is moving in with her. 

Patrick squeezes his eyes shut and forces the wetness away. "Fuck," he mutters under his voice, then opens his eyes again to see Jonny walking over to him. There's a dumb smile back on his face and once more Patrick feels the anger taking over him. "Why are you even smiling, asshole?"

That makes Jonny stop in his tracks a few feet away from Patrick. He searches Patrick's face for some seconds, then shrugs. "I, uh. It's good to see you, you know, I guess. We didn't really hang out together for a while."

And that's. That's not what Patrick was expecting to hear. He kind of wants to laugh in Jonny's face, yell at him that of course he knows that they haven't seen each other in a while, it's not like Patrick's counting the days or anything. Fuck, it's not like Patrick's in love with Jonny and misses him every single day. He lets out a long sigh and feels his shoulder slump.

"Yeah," is what he says instead. 

There's a piece of tape stuck to the front of Jonny's shirt and Patrick wants to reach out and pull it out, but he holds back and crosses his arms over his chest. He's not mad at Jonny, or not more than usual, anyway. He can't blame Jonny for not being in love with him, is the thing, or for not wanting to talk to Patrick after what happened. If anything, Jonny probably thought he was looking out for Patrick when he chose not to say anything. So yeah, Patrick's not mad. There's a strange feeling of urgency taking over him instead, as if this is the only chance he'll ever get of knowing what Jonny's really thinking, what's really going on. "You should've called me. To hang out."

Jonny's face clears up slightly. "You should've, too."

"Yeah, well. You should've called me for today," Patrick points out, no real bite to his tone but mostly curiosity. Jonny's eyes latch on to his and don't let go, and Patrick has to walk away because he can't deal with it. 

He walks past Jonny and over to the sofa, leans against it to face Jonny's back. Jonny's hands are limp by his sides, but his shoulders are now bunched up in a straight line and Patrick wants to make it go away. He wants to show Jonny that he doesn't have to tiptoe around him, that Patrick can take talking about this girlfriend stuff without like, crying or anything, and that they can be close friends again.

"So, how are you going to handle the whole decoration thing?" He asks, just to break the silence.

Jonny turns around to face him. "What do you mean?"

He looks truly confused and Patrick rolls his eyes, then starts looking around the condo vaguely in an attempt to not have to meet Jonny's eyes. "I mean, how are you going to deal with it? Are you going to impose your style, or are you going to let her put some of her own stuff around? Maybe make a combination out of both? Man, you're gonna have to find a new room to put your jerseys up."

"What--" Jonny is still frowning at him. "Seriously, what are you talking about?"

Patrick hesitates. "Aren't-- You're moving in with your girl, aren't you?"

And Jonny -- there's no way to explain the changes Jonny's face goes through as that question is left hanging in the air, Patrick's heart hammering in his chest and his hands itching to press against the heated skin of Jonny's cheeks. Finally, Jonny shakes his head. "No?" It's a half-question, half-yell, and it startles Patrick a little. "I'm not-- we broke up like two months ago."

Patrick blinks once, twice, three times. This day definitely belongs to an alternate dimension. His hand is shaking a little as he brings it up to scratch at his chin distractedly. "Huh," he finally says, because it's all he can utter at the moment.

"Yeah, it was a while ago." Jonny says. His voice is calm but his eyes are still hungrily searching Patrick's face. It's a habit Jonny has, not just with Patrick but with everyone. He'll say something then use his freaky shark eyes to study you in case there's any reaction he might be interested in. Patrick remembers how he used to be scared of that look when he first met Jonny. That fear lasted for about three hours and then all he did was tease Jonny about it.

Patrick realizes belatedly that he still hasn't said anything in reply, but as the moment stretches and he still has nothing to say, he decides to stay quiet. It's not like he wasn't hoping for this, Jonny to tell him he's single again, except. That doesn't really change anything, does it? It's not like Jonny will fall in love with Patrick just because he no longer has a girlfriend. And again, it's that feeling of being so out of the loop with everything regarding Jonny. Fucking two months ago, that was even before they won the cup and things became what they are. They were still talking back then, Patrick protests inside his head.

"Wait." Jonny speaks up again, his voice gaining a sharper tone. "Back in June, when we-- when I-- did you really think that night that I would still..." he trails off with a frown, and his eyes drop to the ground. "Jesus, Patrick, how much of an asshole do you think I am."

Honestly, Patrick hasn't really thought of it that way until now. There have always existed two Jonnys for him, the one that plays hockey and has tons of friends and the one only Patrick gets to see. His own Jonny, the one that exists only for him and has a special smile for him and gives him his kid pictures for him to keep. Patrick didn't even consider that night that Jonny still had a girlfriend, the thought of it never crossed his mind. There were two separate things, what happened on the outside and what happened between the two of them. Their own private bubble.

He finally shrugs. "I didn't really think of it," he admits, and then almost adds what with your tongue on my neck and all that. 

Jonny looks at him almost as if he could read his thoughts, and Patrick notices how this is the first time they're actually talking about this.

"You didn't tell me that you two broke up," he says, just because he feels he needs to say something.

"Well. You were kind of avoiding me." 

There's no heat or accusation in Jonny's voice, but Patrick still flushes and looks down. This is probably the most awkward conversation they've ever had between them, yet Patrick feels slightly at ease. They stand there in silence for what feels like hours, not looking at each other, not talking to each other, just breathing the same air and sharing the same room for the first time in ages, and Patrick feels closer to Jonny than he has in a very long time. 

The moment is broken when Jonny speaks up again.

"I was going to, you know. Tell you, I mean. About today. I just... not at the same time as the rest of the guys. I wanted it to be just you and me."

There's a little flip inside Patrick's stomach that he fights to keep down as soon as he feels it start. He shakes his head, then looks at Jonny with a frown. Jonny's cheeks go red once more, and he hurriedly goes on.

"I mean. There's so much of your stuff here, and. Well. I know things have been weird between us, but, maybe you wanted to go over all these stuff. With me. See what belongs to who."

Patrick doesn't even think of denying it, even though he can't remember when was the last time he ever left something of his at Jonny's place. It was something he did all the time a few years back, when he spent most of his nights in Jonny's guest room and borrowed Jonny's clothes, not because he didn't have his own in there but because they were being done with the rest of Jonny's laundry. He left hockey gear from when he came straight from games, food containers when he brought home-cooked meal for Jonny to have.

He smiles a little and prays it doesn't look as shaky as he feels. "Maybe some other time."

There's a brief flash of disappointment on Jonny's face before he puts on a brave smile and walks over to Patrick. He doesn't stop a few feet away, though, he just keeps approaching him until he's close enough to pull Patrick into a hug. It should feel strange, after all this time and with no hockey equipment to get in the middle of them, but it doesn't. Almost instinctively, Patrick wraps his arms around Jonny's waist and places his head on Jonny's shoulder, taking in his warmth, his smell. Jonny holds him like that, one hand cupping the back of Patrick's head and his nose buried in Patrick's curls. Patrick wonders if Jonny can feel against his chest how fast Patrick's heart is beating.

They stay like that, wrapped around each other and stealing each other's warmth, for longer than Patrick should allow it. He counts down from ten in his head, promises himself he'll pull back when he gets to zero. But just one number away, Jonny shifts and one of his hands falls to the back of Patrick's neck, squeezes it a bit, and then Jonny takes in a large breath right against Patrick's hair, as if he's sniffing in his smell or something. Patrick smiles a bit against his will -- god, Jonny is so weird -- and grants himself another ten seconds. 

Eventually he manages to step back. One of Jonny's hands lingers on Patrick's waist, fingers tangling in his belt loops and tugging slightly at the hem of his shirt before limply falling back to Jonny's side. Patrick takes in Jonny's soft, dumb smile and his big eyes and wants this forever. Just, just this. Being close again, being friends and hanging out and liking each other.

He wants to apologize, to tell Jonny he's sorry for ruining everything, for falling in love with him and not being able to hold his feelings under control. Without realizing it, his hand is halfway to Jonny's cheek before he stops himself. They both stare at it for some seconds, at his fingers, just hanging in midair between them, before Patrick draws back and instead uses his hand to peel off the piece of tape stuck to Jonny's shirt. He folds it in two to keep the sticky side in then flicks it to the side.

"Sorry for being weird."

He doesn't mean just now, he means for the past three years, and he thinks Jonny gets it. He smiles at Patrick and shakes his head gently, then reaches up to tug at the hem of Patrick's shirt again. Patrick doesn't know why he does it, what it means, but he lets him do it anyway. After a while, too overwhelmed with everything, Patrick grips Jonny's wrist and pulls it away, allows his thumb to stroke the soft skin just for one second before letting go and shoving both hands down his pockets.

"I should go." Jonny quickly nods and steps back, giving him space. 

Patrick looks to the floor and walks away, feeling about ten pounds lighter than when he came in through the door just a few hours ago. They haven't really fixed anything, not yet really, but he wants to grin and run to his car and blast really loud music to sing along to. He tries to keep himself and his smile under control, though, and he's already halfway through the door when Jonny calls out to him.

"Hey Patrick." His eyes are shining a bit as he smirks and glances down. "Nice sneakers."

Patrick huffs out a laugh and flips Jonny off before closing the door behind him.

~

 

Patrick wakes up the next day expecting a text from Jonny telling him to come over, but there's nothing. It's weird, because Jonny's not a morning person at all but he does like to wake up somewhat early when he has things to do -- especially when he's on a schedule, and Patrick's pretty sure that if Jonny once made lists and graphics to prepare the perfect sandwich, he's most likely gone overboard with the planning for his packing. Maybe he had Patrick scheduled in just for yesterday, and he's missed his chance now.

Jonny doesn't contact him during the day. Patrick texts Sharpy and very subtly asks him what he's up to just to check they're not all hanging out at Jonny's without him again. But Sharpy doesn't reply until Patrick's making himself dinner, and when he does it's to tell him that he's _enjoying time off with wife & kid like grownups do._

Whatever. Patrick's totally a grownup, Sharpy's just old. 

The next morning, though, when Patrick wakes up with the beginning of a headache and delves into his medicine cabinet to find some aspirin, he sees something that makes him pause. Lost in the mess Patrick generously calls his cabinet is what's left of the medication Jonny was supposed to be taking for his concussion, forgotten from back when Patrick still hadn't confessed his love for him and things hadn't gone to shit, and Jonny was still hanging out over at Patrick's place. There's a pink post-it attached to it that says how many a day and at what time Jonny had to take them.

Patrick pulls them out and throws them into the trash. He hopes neither him nor Jonny will need to take them in the near future, and having them in his bathroom feels a little like he's asking for it. He's not superstitious or anything, he's just being cautious. 

After that, however, Patrick keeps remembering what Jonny told him a couple of days ago and there's something tugging at his stomach that he can't quite place. Patrick forgets all about his headache and starts looking around every single room, hunting down items that could belong to Jonny. It's really easy at first: there are things that could never in a million years be his, like a Blackhawks notebook filled with plays and stats from other teams; snacks in his kitchen that he wouldn't eat, not because they're bad for him, but because they're healthy and gross; and a couple of shirts hanging in his closet that are way too fancy -- and a bit too big, but whatever, Patrick will never admit to that.

Other areas are far shakier. Jonny's and his movies and videogames had sort of become one huge, joint collection at one point, because it was pointless to keep buying the same movies and games if they were just going to end up watching them or playing them together, anyway. He keeps those right where they are. He doesn't want to make this look too much like a break up sort of thing, and plus, giving Jonny back some DVDs feels unnecessarily finite, like Patrick's kicking him out of his apartment for good and he's never invited back there to hang out.

He packs all of Jonny's stuff neatly inside an old gear bag he has laying around. Before closing it, he can't help but glance at his closet once more. There's a t-shirt in there that he knows is not his -- it's wide and stretched out, the colors have faded and the collar has lost all shape, and it probably smells disgusting because Patrick can't remember when was the last time he washed it. He's probably been sleeping in it for a month, too. Wow, that's seriously gross, Patrick should really wash that thing. 

He wonders if Jonny has noticed it's missing, but it's unlikely. It's one of his old Sioux Falls shirts and Jonny surely has about a hundred of those. And anyway, if Jonny does remember, then it's probably just as embarrassing to him that's he's been letting Patrick have it for all this time without never asking it back.

When Patrick's done, he sits at the edge of his bed and takes his phone out. He doesn't let himself doubt too much about doing it and sends Jonny a quick text. 

_still want me 2 help u w packing?_

It takes Jonny about ten minutes to answer, during which Patrick drums his fingers against his knee and pretends to be entertained by all the crap in his twitter feed. Finally, his phone beeps and he rushes to open the message. _Thought you didn't want to do it now._

Patrick rolls his eyes. _i meant the other day u idiot. i'm up 4 it now if u want_

This time, Jonny's reply comes almost instantly. _Come over then._

Patrick goes to shower and get dressed, all the time feeling like an idiot for the huge smile on his face. It's just, he and Jonny haven't purposely hung out just the two of them for a very long time. He's halfway through putting on one of the two plaid shirts he owns before telling himself he's being stupid -- it's not like he needs to impress Jonny or anything, not like he's going to impress him with a plaid shirt anyway -- and he puts on a t-shirt instead. He goes with the less obnoxious shoes he has, though.

The first thing Jonny asks him when he sees Patrick is if he's been working out, and Patrick has about two seconds of feeling good with himself and wondering if Jonny likes the way his arms look now, before realizing he's carrying a gym bag over his shoulder and rolls his eyes. Jonny sounded actually proud when he'd asked, and Patrick can't remember why he was ever intimidated by someone as dumb as Jonny.

"Nah, man, no one but you is crazy enough to start working out this early in the off season," he says, then drops the bag at Jonny's feet. "This is, uh, some of your stuff that was back at my place. Figured it'd be easier to just bring them over."

If Jonny's in any way surprised by that, he doesn't show it. He nods, keeping his face blank, and leans down to grab the bag and lift it up. Patrick expects Jonny to take it over to his room, but instead, he just drops it a few feet away, kneels down, and starts going through the things Patrick has packed for him. He doesn't even pull anything out, he just looks around, humming every now and then like he'd forgotten he even owned half of those things. 

"Is this all there was?"

Jonny's tone doesn't sound accusing or anything, and again, Patrick tells himself, there's absolutely no way Jonny can tell that one t-shirt is missing, not after all these years. But Patrick's cheeks get red and warm regardless, and he rubs at them a little before dropping his hands, just to not draw any more attention to his stupid blushing.

"Yeah, what, you think I'd want to keep any of your stupid shit?"

And Jonny grins at that, which is the best sign of their friendship going back to normal Patrick's seen in a very long time. "No, it's not that. Just. You should see how much of your stuff is here." Jonny says while standing up. "I put some of it aside, and I still have a lot of things I'm not sure if they're mine or yours."

"Probably mine," Patrick replies with a grin, just to be a pain in the ass. It makes Jonny roll his eyes, still grinning, and Patrick does a little fist bump inside his head in return. 

"Yeah, probably." Jonny heads over to a pile and grabs a truly horrendous plushie of -- Patrick's guessing thanks to the number of the jersey because the face is as generic and unrecognizable as they come -- Jonny himself. "I knew it was you buying all my merch."

He throws the toy at Patrick's head, and Patrick flicks it away with his hand and watches it hit a wall and land on the floor. The doll continues to smile bravely and creepily from its spot and Patrick tells himself that if he grabs it on his way out it will only be to use it to make fun of Jonny later. He could maybe even get Sharpy to buy it from him for like five bucks. Seems like a sweet deal.

The piles that Jonny's made are embarrassing, to say the least. For starters, half of Patrick's wardrobe is there, or at least one third he hadn't even realized was missing. There are a lot of caps, shoes, socks and shirts of all colors and styles, depending on what Patrick was feeling up to that month. Mostly douchey things that Jonny frowns on, but Patrick can't help but notice how neatly Jonny has kept all of his things. Even Patrick's socks have been cleaned and folded in two by each pair.

"What a freak job," Patrick mutters under his breath, and Jonny hits him in the head with a miniature Tommy Hawk toy. "Jesus, what is it with these things."

"They're not mine."

"Well, they're not mine, either."

Jonny moves to stand behind Patrick, then says, "I bet I can make it land right beside myself." And then he throws the thing across the room and makes it land on top of the Toews doll, which apparently is a huge feat and something to be proud of, according to the celly Jonny is doing right next to him.

Patrick feels so, so embarrassed for Jonny, but he can't remember when he felt this good in months. Years, maybe. It feels like, out of an unspoken agreement, things with Jonny have gone back to being what they were, no awkwardness in the middle, no weird feelings, no hesitation. They will still have to talk, of course, and Patrick's still crazy in love with him, but for now, things are good. Things are great. Perfect, even. Patrick is grinning a lot and he wants to share this with Jonny, but he fears that saying it out loud will shatter this atmosphere they've created around them, so he says nothing about it.

Together, they empty the bag Patrick brought with Jonny's things and start putting in Patrick's. There's a lot more, and Jonny has to lend him one of his boxes to help him put the rest of the stuff in. They both stay quiet, just moving things from one place to the other. Patrick keeps smiling, though, and so does Jonny, and occasionally Patrick will look up and catch Jonny's eyes and smile even wider, and Jonny will mirror his grin full force. 

Patrick only speaks when he finds something in the pile that catches his attention. "This isn't mine, dude." It's a Die Hard DVD, special edition, and Jonny looks at it with something in his eyes that Patrick can't place.

"You bought it," Jonny says.

"Yeah, for you, dumbass." Patrick tosses the DVD case at him and Jonny catches it, then pulls it to his chest a little protectively. Patrick snorts at him, like the case could've suffered any damages from being thrown from like two feet above the ground where they're both sitting, and then adds, "I got it for you right after Madison, remember?"

Jonny frowns. "You got me some tape for my stick for my birthday that year." And after a second's pause, Jonny goes on, "I remember because it was the crappiest gift I got."

"At least I got you something useful, jerk," Patrick replies. His cheeks are heating up again, so he looks down and pretends he's really interested in a phone charger with his name taped to it. "And anyway, I didn't get it for your birthday."

"Then what for?" Jonny is doing the whole shark eye routine again, and Patrick just keeps his eyes down and fiddles with the chord of the charger. He shrugs.

"I don't know. Just." He takes a long breath in, then exhales and looks up at Jonny, knowing he might regret what he's about to say. "I guess I felt bad for putting you in a bad light, with what I did and all. Embarrassing you for being an irresponsible little shit and all that." Jonny's face starts softening and his eyes are widening, so Patrick hastens to add, "Or maybe I just wanted to get you a present, Jesus, just say thank you and get on with it."

Jonny doesn't say thank you. He continues to stare at Patrick for a while, then lays the DVD case carefully next to him and turns his attention back to packing Patrick's things. This time, the silence between them is heavier; not uncomfortable or weird, but it's as if they've pressed the fast forward button and suddenly they've both realized that they're going to have to talk eventually, and that it's going to be rather sooner than later.

A few minutes later, Jonny speaks up. His voice is quiet and soft, and it makes Patrick's stomach turn as much as his words do. "For what it's worth, I've never been anything but proud of you."

Patrick's eyes shoot up, and he doesn't know what his face is showing but Jonny just looks at him, softly and at the same time almost too intensely, and Patrick's heart is beating twice as fast as it should, and Jonny's lips part, and Patrick's about to do something really stupid until one of their phones buzzes somewhere and the moment is over. 

Patrick looks away and puts a smirk on his face, looks at Jonny teasingly and says, "Don't get all sentimental on me, man, or I'll take your plushie instead of you."

And then Jonny starts on about how dumb it is that they're putting out dolls of them instead of, like, action figures, and Patrick agrees just to give Jonny the little encouragement he needs to rant endlessly about it until whatever had happened between us right then is left behind. 

 

~

 

It becomes somewhat of a routine after that. 

That first day, Patrick goes back to his house with an embarrassingly swoopy stomach and feeling lighter than he has in years. He goes to sleep with a ridiculous smile on his face and not even Sharpy's text that says _;))))))_ ruins it for him.

He heads over to Jonny's place uninvited the following day, picking up some take out on his way there which they eat from the box while sitting on the floor in the middle of the boxes. Jonny clearly knows very little about packing because he's already packed the TV, which Patrick's pretty sure you always have to leave for last, and so he spends half the meal teasing him about it.

He only stops complaining about the TV to start complaining about Jonny's ridiculous and over the top packing rules, because they're absolutely unnecessary and dumb. Patrick already hates packing as it is -- hell, getting his bag ready for a road trip is the worst -- and Jonny's company is not exciting enough to put up with it.

(He's lying, it's totally more than enough. That doesn't mean he won't whine about it, though.)

"Have you ever even read this?" Patrick asks.

He's sprawled on the floor on his back, taking up as much space as is possible in the middle of all the boxes and things scattered around him. Jonny is just a few feet away with his laptop, writing down the book names and authors in a very neat Excel datasheet. Patrick wanted to be assigned that task, because at least it meant he could play solitary or something to avoid a certain death out of boredom, but Jonny didn't trust him enough to not write in silly fake book names. All Patrick can do now is make fun of Jonny's taste in books, starting by _Birds of North America: A Guide to Field Identification_.

"It's not a book you read, Patrick, "Jonny tells him, rolling his eyes. 

"So, what, this is what you kill time with when you're out fishing?"

Patrick means it as a joke, naturally, but it's still not surprising that Jonny's answer is: "Yeah, exactly." What is surprising, however, is what Jonny adds next. "You could come over, some time. To Winnipeg." Jonny pauses as if waiting to see Patrick will add something, but Patrick is speechless. "I know fishing isn't your thing, but it could be fun."

After a few seconds, Patrick finds his voice. "Am I allowed to bring snacks?"

"Sure." Jonny says with a snort.

Patrick has to open the book and pretend he's engrossed by it to hide his grin.

 

~

 

"I hate this."

"I know. You've said it at least ten times today."

"No, I really hate this."

"I know."

But Jonny doesn't know. Because Jonny's started wearing his oldest, most ill-fitting clothes, which means he's wearing t-shirts from when he was younger and smaller, and that stretch over his shoulders and barely contain his arms. Patrick's been watching Jonny's muscles flex each time he bends down to duck tape a box shut for the past hour and a half. 

Patrick tries to distract himself with the bubble wrap, but he only has like five seconds of popping and of fun before Jonny's glare gets too much to handle and he stops. When he throws an almost desperate look around the room, he spots Jonny's old sticks propped against a wall.

"Hey," he says, punching Jonny in the shoulder to get his attention. "Wanna play?"

"We don't have any pucks."

"You're a professional hockey player and you don't have pucks?" Patrick asks in disbelief.

"I packed them already."

"Packed the pucks," Patrick mutters to himself with a snicker. "Let's use this." He uses the pair of scissors laying around to cut a piece of bubble wrap, bunches it up into a ball, then tapes it to maintain the shape. "There."

But Jonny is still unconvinced. "We don't have goals."

"We have boxes, Jonny," Patrick says with a roll of his eyes. "Use your imagination."

"But you suck at face offs, how is this any fun for me?"

Jonny's smirking now, though, and they end up playing a weird hockey game with, like, five goals, two pucks, and a very complicated scoring system that somehow results in Patrick winning and gloating for the rest of the day, to Jonny's utter dismay.

 

~

 

A few days later, Jonny invites Patrick to stay for dinner.

With how awesome and nice the whole day has been going, Patrick shouldn't really be at all surprised by the invitation. But when Jonny says it, his voice is just the slightest bit unsure, and his eyes are doing that thing where they go really wide and shifty, and he starts talking about how he wasn't going to make dinner but then thought he should, but then he couldn't find the ingredients his mom had given him on the phone.

"And nobody at the grocery store had any idea of what I was talking about, which is fucking useless, so I ended up doing a much simpler version. I'm not sure if it's any good, but it should be, I mean, all the main ingredients are there, and--"

"Jonny," Patrick cuts him off, shoving his shoulder a little to cut off more effectively his nervous ramblings. "It's cool, man, let's just eat."

But Patrick is not stupid, and he knows Jonny enough to know his friend wouldn't get this nervous over a meal, so he comes to the realization that Jonny has planned out this day to the last minute, and he's most likely scheduled The Talk either during or after their food. Patrick's stomach does another stupid twist and he feels his hands getting a little sweaty. Jonny's food looks delicious as he's plating it, and Patrick wants to enjoy it, and knows he won't if this is hanging in the air between them.

So before he can stop himself, he sticks his hands in his pockets and blurts out, "Should we talk about it now?"

Jonny doesn't drop the spoon he's holding, but he turns to look at Patrick with confused, scared eyes. Patrick would almost feel bad for messing up his whole schedule, but he really wants to get this over with.

"I mean the whole, having sex and never talking about it, and me being stupidly in love with you thing. Which, we don't have to talk about that, if you don't want. Hell, I know I don't want to."

And Jonny does drop the spoon then. It clatters around the tile floor and food flies everywhere. Patrick even thinks he feels some of it hit his ankles, but he doesn't pay attention to it, doesn't have time for it, because suddenly Jonny's walking over to him and getting all up in his space, pushing him against the nearest wall and just trapping him there with his body.

Now, Patrick has only gotten to experience this once, and he was drunk off his head so he doesn't remember any of it. He doesn't remember how dumb Jonny's face looks from so close, how dark and wide his stupid eyes are, how long are his eyelashes, how loud he breathes out through his nose, how red his lips are and how wet they get when Jonny licks them. He doesn't remember the look of fierce determination Jonny gets when he makes up his mind and leans in to kiss him, so Patrick doesn't see it coming. Or maybe he does, deep down, in that small fraction of his brain that is still functioning. Either way, he doesn't stop it.

The kiss feels weird. Jonny's lips are chapped, and he has both hands fisted by his sides, and Patrick still hasn't reacted enough to kiss him back. What he does do, however, is push Jonny back forcefully and wipe the back of his hand across his lips because what the hell.

"What?" Patrick tries to yell it out, but his voice sounds low and shaky.

Jonny hasn't moved away from him yet, he's still crowding him against the wall and his eyes are still fixed on his, still wide, still dumb. He looks a little dazed, though, and his cheeks are flushed. "What."

"No, you what," Patrick says, shoving at Jonny's shoulder weakly in an attempt to get him to give him some space because he suddenly feels he might suffocate.

This seems to clear Jonny's mind a little. He blinks a few times, then asks, "What did you say? Before."

Patrick is confused as fuck and has no idea of what has happened or what the fuck Jonny's talking about. His heart is pounding so bad, and he's just realizing that this is his first kiss with Jonny -- or at least the first one he's going to remember. Maybe even the last one, by how this is going. The point is, when Patrick thinks back to their first kiss, he won't remember the -- potentially -- spectacular sex with Jonny, he will remember this awful, out-of-nowhere kiss he didn't even return and that happened in the middle of a terrible conversation.

Not to mention that Jonny fucking kissed him, and everything in Patrick's life over the past years has become so blurred he can't even remember how long he's been wanting this. And now he finally got it. And it sucked and he doesn't understand why it happened or if it will happen again. Basically, he's freaking out a little bit.

Either Jonny sees this or gets tired of waiting for Patrick to answer, because he brings his right hand to brush Patrick's cheek in the lightest of touches, then places it on Patrick's shoulder and shakes him a bit. "Pat," he says, "tell me again what you said."

"Uh." Patrick closes his eyes and lets out a long breath. Fuck Jonny for expecting him to think after this. "That we had to talk about this?"

"No, after that."

"That... I didn't want to talk about this?" Patrick tries. 

Jonny rolls his eyes at him, exasperated, but his eyes still look soft and gentle. And terrified, if Patrick's reading him right. "The being in love with me part."

Oh.

For a second, Patrick wonders if Jonny's enough of a dick to be doing this just to make fun of Patrick, to make him relive that moment where he told Jonny how he felt and Jonny showed him just how horrified he was by the idea. But no, not even Jonny's that much of an asshole, and would he go as far as kissing Patrick just to tease him?

Patrick's brain hurts so much he wishes he could just turn it off and go with whatever is happening here.

"Well, uh. It's not like you didn't know already."

"What?" Jonny frowns and finally, finally takes a step back and gives Patrick some space. "How the hell was I supposed to know?"

"Uh, I told you?" It's Patrick's turn to roll his eyes know, because wow, Jonny is stupid. "Last year, before I left Chicago for the off season," he adds, because Jonny really looks like he has no clue what Patrick's talking about. "I went up to you and told you, and you said no, remember? Which, whatever, dude, I got it and I never brought it up again because I know it freaked you out, so I'm sorry I mentioned it or whatever, I promise I'll keep it to myself from now on."

Patrick's rambling again, mumbling with his eyes fixed on Jonny's shirt so that he doesn't have to look at him in the eye. Until he feels Jonny's hand leave his shoulder and looks up to see Jonny rub his face with it before letting out a long sigh. 

He stares at Patrick straight in the eyes, looking angry and scared and, Patrick dares to hope, amused. "Dude, do you remember anything about that conversation? Because you did not say that to me."

"Uh, I totally did, man," and it's Patrick's turn to be offended. "Are you, like, doubting my conversational skills? You, Mr. Let's Not Talk About Feelings For Three Years?"

"I didn't think there were any feelings to talk about!" Jonny says, and then almost to himself, he adds, "at least not on your side."

"What?" Because seriously, what?

"Pat, you were drunk that day. You were making absolutely no fucking sense at all. If I'm not mistaken, which I know I'm not because there's no way I could ever make myself forget this, your exact words were: 'I don't remember the sex, I think I don't want to remember the sex, but maybe we should have sex again because I haven't had good sex in two years.'" Jonny's face is turning a dangerous shade of red, but he doesn't yell or raise his voice.

Patrick, for his part, sort of wishes he would, because maybe that would make this less embarrassing. Did his love declaration really suck so bad? And, was he really drunk? He certainly did not remember that part.

"That probably didn't come out the way I wanted it to," Patrick says, or more like mumbles to Jonny's shoes. "I was... I was trying to say that, just. I'd been thinking about you a lot, okay? Like, non-stop. And not just sex stuff but everything stuff, like, dating and cuddling and bringing you breakfast to bed." As soon as he says it, Patrick wishes he could take those words back, but when he dares to look up at Jonny, there's a small smile on his face and he doesn't look like he wants to tease Patrick about it, so he goes on. "And I was thinking about you so much that I tried to have sex with other people, but it was never good enough. So, like. I don't know."

Jonny shakes his head softly and steps in close again to press his forehead against Patrick's. It's exactly what Patrick needs to calm down, though his heart is still hammering and the butterflies in his stomach are going wild at the fact that Jonny is not freaking out by this and instead looks actually happy about it.

"Fuck," Jonny whispers, then pulls back. "The way I heard it, Pat, was that you had had awful sex and that you were going through a rough patch, I guess, and that you wanted to try sex with me again to see if it wasn't too bad. And fuck, I'd been convincing myself that you were over that night, so when you brought it up and sounded so casual about it, while I'd been freaking out and trying to deal with it, I just couldn't do it."

"Wait. So, what, you...?" 

Patrick doesn't dare to end that question, but Jonny just smiles at him and shakes his head again, like Patrick's been the dumb one all this time for not realizing this. And then Jonny leans in and presses his lips, dry and warm to the corner of Patrick's mouth in a lingering kiss that sends shivers up and down Patrick's body.

"I'm in love with you, you idiot. Have been for ages." Patrick blinks at him because he feels like he's been punched and he's sort of choking again. "Even before we had sex, I think. I said the cup thing just because I didn't want to make anything weird for you, and I promised myself I wouldn't let it happen again. That I wouldn't do that to you. I didn't want us to have sex again unless you knew how I felt, it just didn't seem fair to you." Jonny pauses, looks at Patrick to see if he's going to say something, and then sighs. "But that night back in June, I -- fuck, Pat, you looked so fucking hot and you were so happy, I lost it for a second."

He's started to whisper the words against Patrick's neck, his lips brushing skin right over Patrick's most sensitive spot. And suddenly all Patrick can do is push Jonny back, take a few gasping breaths of air, and then bolt and run away. He just runs out the door and down the hallway to the elevator, which thankfully arrives fast enough, and then feels his body trembling all the way down until he's finally outside and in the parking lot and he's practically hyperventilating against a column because. What.

Jonny's in love with him.

He tries out the idea in his head a few times. This changes everything. Jonny has been in love with him for ages, he said, and thought Patrick didn't love him back. How could they have both been so stupid? Patrick wants to cry but mostly he wants to laugh, because even through all the confusion and the ground-shattering revelations, he can't control the happiness bursting from inside his chest, like waves, like fire, and he feels elated and happy and like he just scored a game winning goal and he can hear the crowd all around him.

He's laughing, he's actually laughing breathlessly like a lunatic in the middle of Jonny's parking lot, and fuck, Jonny. He realizes he just told Jonny he loved him, Jonny said it back, and then Patrick just left him there, God, fuck.

Patrick starts running again. He takes the stairs this time, and he doesn't care if it takes him longer than the elevator, he's already out of breath anyway. He must be a sight when he finally gets back to Jonny's apartment, where the door is still open and Jonny's standing in the exact same spot Patrick left him, only he's now leaning against the wall with one shoulder and his eyes are closed and Patrick feels a swooping sensation in his stomach and he never wants to leave Jonny again. God, he feels ridiculous, and he probably looks ridiculous as well, his face red and sweaty and still grinning and chuckling like he's crazy, but fuck it if he cares. Jonny loves him.

It's his laughter what makes Jonny look up at him. He doesn't look upset or disappointed, he just takes Patrick in and lets out a short laugh. "You look so stupid right now," Jonny says, but he doesn't stop Patrick when he walks over to him and presses close against him.

"Sorry for leaving, I don't know what happened, man," Patrick says.

Jonny shrugs. "It's alright." He pushes Patrick's sweaty curls off his forehead and the cups the back of Patrick's neck. "You kinda stink, though."

"You love it, baby," Patrick tells him with a cheesy grin, and Jonny wrinkles his nose at him.

"I really, really don't."

"I'm still going to kiss you now."

Jonny doesn't object. He doesn't when Patrick uses his hand to pull Jonny's head down to his, or when he kisses Jonny deep and slow, all tongue and teeth and little sighs coming out of his mouth before he can stop them. He doesn't object when Patrick invites him to push him back against the wall, or when the kiss turns filthier and messier, when Patrick's sighs turn into moans and when he hooks one leg around Jonny's and brings their hips close together.

They end up rubbing against each other for hours, or at least what feels like hours, until they're both panting into each other's mouths, lips red and wet, their cheeks flushed, both so hard it hurts. Jonny then slips both hands down the back of Patrick's pants and grips his ass, and Patrick comes so hard he might just pass out, but he clings to consciousness just to see the face Jonny makes when he too loses control and comes against Patrick, shuddering and holding on to Patrick like it's all he's got. It's the hottest thing Patrick has ever been lucky enough to experience and it's absolutely amazing.

Patrick thinks he might change things a little so that he can remember this as their first actual kiss.

 

~

 

Patrick starts letting himself in to Jonny's house. He still has Jonny's keys -- could never bring himself to get rid of them, and always thinking that, if Jonny ever gave back Patrick's keys, then Patrick would do the same. Thankfully, Jonny never did. He doesn't do much when he's alone, because it's not like he thinks packing's fun or anything. It's more the idea of the two of them being comfortable with each other again that makes Patrick go over so much. And he still finds ways to entertain himself.

Jonny walks in one day to find him hanging out inside his super cool fort made out of boxes. Patrick considers being embarrassed for a few seconds, but the fort really is awesome.

With his eyebrows raised, Jonny asks, "Is this really all you did today?" And then, after leaving the stuff he went out to buy next to the door, adds, "Is there any room in there for me?"

He's still looking like he disproves of Patrick's creation, so Patrick moves forward to poke Jonny's leg with one finger. Instead of making his face relax, however, it only makes him frown even harder. Patrick rolls his eyes. "No grouchy people allowed in my fort."

"But I brought you food."

Patrick lets out a long sigh. "Fine."

Dropping down next to Patrick, Jonny rests his back against a box, their shoulders and knees bumping against each other's as they share one of the muffins Jonny bought for them. 

"Why didn't you just hire someone to do this for you?" Patrick asks, once the muffin has disappeared and there's nothing but a few crumbles on the floor around them. Jonny's frowning at them.

"I don't trust anyone to do it," Jonny answers. "No one will be as careful with my things as me."

"Oh, yeah, because Brandon and fucking Shawsy are much more trustworthy than people who do this for a living," Patrick replies, rolling his eyes.

There's a flush creeping up Jonny's cheeks, and Patrick stares at it, fascinated. After a while, Jonny shrugs, and mumbles, "Maybe I didn't want strangers messing around with your stuff." And after a beat, "maybe I had a plan where I asked you for help, you came over, realized that I'd kept all of your things because I'm in love with you, and stopped hating me or something."

"Or something," Patrick says with a little laugh. "So, did it work?"

At this, Jonny's lips curve into a smirk. "Pretty sure it did."

"Did your plan mention anything about having sex in an awesome fort?"

"Oh, that is allowed in your stupid fort?"

Patrick almost speaks up to defend his super awesome and not at all stupid fort, but Jonny pulls out his shirt quickly then leans down to kiss him, and Patrick forgets all about it.

 

~

 

Six days later -- and only because they keep getting distracted every five minutes and trying to make up for the lost time -- they're finally done with packing. Patrick happily caps off the sharpie after labelling the last box and then tosses it away with a huge grin.

He sees Jonny's eyes follow the sharpie through the air, and Patrick's shoulders slump a little in dread. "Don't tell me we're supposed to pack the sharpie, too."

Jonny simply rolls his eyes, grabs Patrick by his shirt and pulls him in for a kiss. They stay that way for a few minutes, making out in the middle of Jonny's empty apartment, breathing into each other's mouths and running their hands over each other's backs. It's slow and soft and stupidly romantic and Patrick comes really close to passing out.

When he pulls back, he rests his head on Jonny's shoulder and looks at Chicago through Jonny's huge windows.

"I'm going to miss the view," he says.

Jonny's silent for a few seconds. "It's not really going anywhere." 

Patrick feels the rumble of Jonny's voice in his chest and he has to make an effort to pull his head away and look at Jonny's face. "Well, no," he says slowly. "But you are."

"Only like two floors up."

It takes some minutes for that to sink in, and when it does, Patrick can only stare at Jonny's face in silence. "Tell me you're not serious."

"What, why?"

"Just two floors up? All this packing just to move up two fucking floors?" 

"It's not exactly the same condo," Jonny says defensively. "The kitchen is more modern and--

Patrick steps back and throws his arms into the air. "You're insane, Jonny. Fucking psycho."

"Hey--"

"No, don't talk to me." Patrick pretty much shoves his hand into Jonny's face to shut him up. "I hate you so much right now, don't even talk to me."

But Jonny's not letting him go. Just as Patrick turns around, Jonny wraps both arms around his waist and pulls him tight against his chest. Patrick could pretend to struggle and try to get away, but Jonny's as warm and solid as always and his hair is tickling Patrick's cheek it feels nice.

"If you help me with this last thing," Jonny starts in a low voice, "we can unpack the sofa first."

Patrick's stomach does that dumb flipping thing again, and he leans back further against Jonny's chest. He still says, "Really, Jonny? Your way of convincing me is the sofa instead of the bed? Classy."

Jonny laughs "We've been having sex over boxes for the past days, Patrick, are you seriously going to act like you're picky now?"

Patrick turns around in Jonny's arms and punches Jonny in the shoulder. "Asshole," he says. 

But what he's really thinking is that he really wants to unpack Jonny's sofa at his new place. He wants to have their first kiss at the new place. He really wants to unpack Jonny's things and help him place them around the house, wants to help him decorate his new stupid kitchen and wants to cook their breakfast there. He wants to wake up at Jonny's new bedroom and, more than anything, he wants to walk around Jonny's place and know that he was there and that Jonny wanted him to be a part of it.

"You're lucky I love you," Patrick finally says, and even after everything, he's not ready for the way Jonny's entire face lights up before breaking into a grin, his eyes crinkling.

"Yeah, I am," Johnny whispers, dumb and soft, and Patrick has to kiss him before he says something that embarrasses them both.

 

~

 

In the end, they do christen the sofa. And the bed. And the modern, shiny countertops in Jonny's new kitchen, and his much bigger shower. Patrick builds forts using Jonny's pillows, and they eat on the floor and in bed, and they spend the entire first week holed up by themselves, ignoring their friends' texts and calls and going through Jonny's DVDs in their boxers and socks.

Patrick leaves behind some of his own shirts and socks to inaugurate Jonny's closet.


End file.
